With Love
by near-goron
Summary: a one-shot, Seto's view. he's thinking about Crow, of course - written in the style of a letter concerning his feelings, his sadness and loneliness; I tried to write a bit poetic. hints of Seto x Crow - it's more or less based on it; contains spoilers


After playing Fragile Dreams for weeks, I just felt like I needed to write something about Crow^^ Though I didn't really want to make it so sad, but anyway. Well, I just tried to write something beautiful!  
What do you think about it? Please review!

_Dislaimer:_ I don't own the game Fragile Dreams or the characters...  
I used some of the lyrics of Not As We by Alanis Morissette.

_Listening Suggestion:_ Without A Trace by The GazettE (it's so beautiful... I've listened it the whole time while I was writing this^^)

_Timid without a hand; feign brave with steel intent. Little and hardly here. Day one, day one, start over again._ (Not As We)

Unanimated Pacification Of The Restless Soul

**- With Love** -

Please, if there is any way out of my despair, let me walk it.  
If there is any path to get rest for my lonesome mind, please let me find it.

Every day I go on like this, longing for contact, I feel the strings of my heart clenching in desperation, with every step.  
This human body is bound to closeness, seeking it in every single moment.  
Even when I'm sleeping – my heart yearns for something in this dried out world.  
Even when I'm pretending - to be cold, uncaring – all my heart screams for is closeness.

With every. Single. Beat...  
Closeness.  
Contact.  
Rest.  
Closeness.  
...Closeness...

After running after it, for a single hint that makes me feel less lonely, I finally found something.

My heart is like a withered desert flower – it will blossom even from the exiguous drop of water; which is you.  
You're nothing more than a fragment of a raindrop, barely holding any vestige of water.  
You will never be anything more.  
But still, you're enough to make my parched heart blossom.  
Still, you're enough to make me feel.  
Still, you're enough to make me breathe and live.  
You're even enough to make me love.

You're nothing more than the faint reflection of what I really need. The blurred reflection of a human being who is standing in front of a mirror made of dark glass – that's what you are.

I was craving for another human being to share my feelings with, to talk about my heart and soul – What I got instead is an unanimated, synthetic body without any soul, not able to do anything more than _mirroring_.  
Mirroring the words you've heard instead of creating anything for me.  
Mirroring the behaviour you were once told instead of getting guided by your personality.  
Mirroring a feeling person without even having the ability of processing emotions.

I was asking for a soul, but what I got - was a machine.

So tell me why I still am able to love! Tell me why you're still so satisfactory for me! If you're not even human...  
Why do I feel like you're so much _more_ human than me? So much more animated. So much more... Alive, so much more filled with spirit?

Because you're still - more alive than me who is always searching.

Only the fact that this flower is withering is not the proof that it's blossom has more capacity to bloom than your's.  
Only the fact that I'm feeling distressed is not the proof that I'm more able to feel than you...  
Because you're the one who is making me feel something. You're the one who's evoking a reaction of my soul.

How can you not be called alive? You, who filled my life with sensation, are the proof of life! You're... you're the one who gave me _love_.

.

Your words are the sweetest drops of dew that drip off the petals of your lips to quench my thirst.  
Your coruscant eyes in the dark are the breath that makes flowers bloom with life.  
A warm touch – how you surge up my love.  
Your hands trace patterns of reassurance on my skin, however automatic it may be, I'm captivated by the silky sensation.  
Is it wrong to long for the monochrome drawing of Eden? If you can't reach the real place...  
Escapism may be the only way left to happiness now; a faint memory promises love, even though no virtue.  
The sweet, low promise of stable love – what else would I care for, then?

- You're _my love_, Crow.

- Seto


End file.
